Daisy | Simon Riley

|30|

She worked her way carefully into her uniform, and like everything else, it took much longer than it should have. But her clothing gave her much less grief than her hair. Lifting her arms to make a bun was stupidly difficult, but she took it slow, being careful not to pull or jerk until her hair was finally appropriate.

It wasn't long after she finished that there was a knock on the door.

"Mornin', Daisy," Soap greeted cheerfully as she pulled the door open, two stacked take-out boxes in one hand, and a tray with two coffees in the other.

"Morning, Soap, thanks for bringing breakfast," she smiled as she stepped aside, letting him into her room. When she closed the door behind him, she made her way to the couch and sat carefully.

"Why are you in uniform?" he asked, brows pulled as he looked her over.

"The buttons make it easier to get on than a sweatshirt," she explained.

He sat, eyes somewhat unconvinced as he passed her a box and cup, but he didn't press the topic. "Hope the coffee's alright, Ghost made it... might want to be careful," he warned cheekily.

A chuckle pulled from her chest, knowing well enough it would be made the way she liked it. "I'm sure I'll survive however he mangled it," she teased back. When she opened the box on her lap, her eyes scanned the stuffed amount of food, "You leave anything for the rest of the base?"

"You're a growing girl, you need lots of food."

With a glare directed at him, she stabbed the fork into a sausage.

"You miss me, lass?" he taunted.

"Like a toothache," she muttered. "Tell me about finding that soldier and the two terrorists."

The information given to her was kept to an absolute minimum—frustrating for her considering she was supposed to be a lead on the case. Whether it was for security reasons or to allow her to 'relax', she was itching for answers.

"Oh, bloody Jesus, I wanted to sock that man," he ground, "who betrays their brothers like that? Allows terrorists to bomb your base?" he seethed before shaking his head. "We couldn't find the group of them, but we were doing recon of the area and found that shack. They were stupid enough to light a fire—or maybe smart. Got hit by a storm the morning after the attack, so it was either die from the cold or risk getting picked up. The soldier was a mess when we broke in, apparently asking Mikkola for forgiveness, all that shite. Bull if you ask me; I'd die before doing something like he did. His excuse was that the terrorists were trying to help him, that he didn't know they were going to bomb the base, yet he still broke those two out as his brothers were dying. And fuck, hearing you'd been caught up in it, nearly bloody strangled them when we arrested them," he grit.

She sent him a closed lipped smile. "I think I might when I see them," she agreed.

"Maybe you can give that leader some encouragement to talk," he suggested, "he's keepin' his mouth shut tight."

"The one in charge of the bunker?"

"Aye. He's a tough one."

"And what about the rest of them?"

He shrugged, "Everyone except him and the two we got from attacking the base are talking. All tellin' the same story; they needed the money and the terrorists were willing to give them work."

She remembered Price saying the same, "What do you think is keeping them quiet?"

"They know more," he shrugged, "smarter for them to not say anything than risk letting the wrong thing slip."